He took my hand and walked us back to where the men were standing, and I noticed he kept me slightly behind him instead of at his side.

“Blackwell.” Tyler’s deep voice sounded impatient.

Mason Blackwell – whom I recognized from TV and his involvement with city council – looked completely at ease and in good humor, something I’d never seen from Tyler.

His black tie was loosened, and his hand rested in his pants pocket. He wore an easy smile, and I could smell the odor from the cigar hooked under his pointer finger as he grinned at Tyler.

But from Tyler’s rigid stance, I could tell he wasn’t as comfortable with Blackwell.

“They’ve instituted curfew on the Westbank,” he told Tyler. “But the party still goes strong over here.”

His white teeth disappeared as he brought the cigar to his mouth and puffed away.

A few young women, dressed in short cocktail dresses, came bursting out of the hotel doors, giggling and stumbling, before they stopped at the group of men, each cozying up to a different gentleman.

A young brunette, her hair a shade lighter than mine, put her hand on Blackwell’s chest as she hugged his side, looking intimate.

Tyler cleared his throat. “How’s your wife, Mason?” he asked, hints of both amusement and disdain seeping out of the comment.

Blackwell’s hand was in his pocket, so I didn’t notice a wedding ring, but the young woman’s left hand was draped over his shoulder, and she wasn’t wearing one.

Blackwell stared at Tyler with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes, and the tension in the air between the two men thickened.

His gaze shifted from Tyler, finding me at his side, slightly behind him.

“Hello?” he greeted, cocking his head and letting his gaze rake down my figure.

He sucked in a breath through his teeth and he half grinned at Tyler. “I envy you,” he said, bringing the cigar up to his mouth. “For once.”

My stomach rolled, and I swallowed, tasting something bitter. Perhaps the cigar was a turnoff, or maybe it was his blatant arrogance, but I felt a sudden urge to shut him up.

Mason held out his hand to me, a lascivious look in his eyes. “Mason Blackwell,” he introduced himself.

But Tyler stepped in front of me, blocking Mason’s view.

“She’s cold,” he shot out. “I’m taking her home.”

And without a goodbye, he grabbed my hand and pulled me back down the street so briskly that I had to jog to keep up.

“He’s not your favorite person,” I mused, blinking away the rain in my eyes. “I can see why. I like him better on TV.”

Tyler crossed the street, dragging me in tow as he turned down another street.

“You don’t like him at all,” he bit out in a low voice.

The sidewalk dipped, and I stumbled. Picking up the pace, I jogged a few steps and continued to follow him down the dark, vacant street.

“Tyler, I wasn’t going to introduce myself,” I assured him, wondering why he was so brusque all of a sudden.

Is that why he’d blocked Mason from shaking my hand? I hadn’t planned to tell him who I was. I knew he and Tyler were rivals, vying for the same Senate seat. He could use me against Tyler, and I wasn’t stupid.

I held tight to his hand, because he was going so fast. “This is exactly what I was talking about,” I maintained, standing my ground. “We’re bound to run into people you know. What are you going to do? Slink into my apartment at night after Christian’s gone to bed?” I shot out. “Take me to hole-in-the-wall restaurants buried in the Marigny? I don’t want to be your secret, Tyler. This is too dangerous.”

But then my breath caught in my throat as he yanked me off the street and through a wide-open gate that led to a darkened driveway, immediately backing me up against the wall next to the gate.

Only just a hair away from prying eyes.

The doors of the huge wooden gate opened for cars to come in and out, and I knew that the driveway would lead into the living area, giving way to a large courtyard.

So far, though, there was no sign of anyone.

“What are you doing?” I gasped.

His forehead pressed against mine, and his hands moved urgently, holding my face. “Dark spaces, quiet places,” he whispered over my mouth. “That’s all we need, Easton.”

And I sucked in a breath as he dove in, taking my lips, moving fast and making it sting so sweetly when he sucked and bit my bottom lip like he was starving.

I moaned, feeling the thick ridge of his cock as he ground into me.

His hands dropped, lifting me by the backs of my thighs and pinning me to the wall as he continued. I tightened my legs around his waist and held him close.

He moved his hands up, squeezing my ass in both of his greedy hands, and he was going at my mouth again and again so fast I couldn’t think straight.

“Tyler, please,” I rushed out, gasping for breath. “We can’t.”

He was making it impossible, and I knew I was lost.

Fuck!

He lifted me higher, holding tight as he pulled down my off-the-shoulder blouse enough to expose my naked breast.

The hardened skin of my nipple begged for his mouth, but I wrapped my hands around his neck, drawing him closer to me.

He caught my nipple in his mouth, quick and rough, and I shivered as he dragged his teeth and sucked, making it burn. I closed my eyes, arching my back to give him more.

He came up, hovering over my lips, while his fingers slipped between us and into my underwear, finding my pussy wet.